GREASING THE WHEELS
by SupernaturallyEgocentric
Summary: This is a new challenge I'm giving myself, to keep the wheels greased, the juices flowing. I'll post as often as I can, each drabble or one-shot will either have the title of a SUPN episode embedded in the content or it will be implied. Here is number eleven. Another Weechester. SCARECROW.
1. Chapter 1

WOMAN IN WHITE

Dean scraped the last of the dirt off the coffin.

Sam tossed the crowbar to him, watching as his brother pried open the casket.

"Bad enough she kills the groom, the maid of honor and herself," Dean groused."She's gotta kill unfaithful men from beyond the grave?"

"I can't believe they buried her in her wedding dress." Sam shifted impatiently. "Hurry up, dude."

Dean doused the white-clad corpse with gasoline, then jumped out of the grave just as Sam tossed in a flaming matchbook. "Shit! What's the freakin' rush?"

"It's midnight," Sam said bitchily. "In January. In _Minnesota_."

Dean smirked. "Wuss."


	2. WENDIGO

Thanks very much to those who read and review. You know who you are. You are very much appreciated.

SUPNSUPNSUPNSUPN

Sammy lays curled up and silent on the floor behind the driver's seat of the Impala. listening to the scritch and scratch of claws as they caress the flanks of the sleek black car.

Even at four years of age, he knows it's not his father or brother outside.

Sammy's father would unlock the door. He'd reassure Sam, tuck him in under the blanket on the back seat. Dean would snuggle in close and hold him tight until they both slept.

The thing outside the car is the thing his father hunts.

Thumb in mouth, eyes wide, rabbit-quiet, Sammy waits.


	3. Dead in the Water

"Garth, hang on!"

Cursing a blue streak, Dean tore around the pool and threw a rope to the floundering hunter, hauling him out of the roiling water.

Garth coughed up half a lung and a shitload of water, soaking Dean's boots.

"_Dammit_!" Dean was outraged.

"Look -" Garth wheezed " -out!"

With a roar a monstrous creature rose from the pool, looming over the puny humans.

Dean sneered and let his silver blade fly, hitting the beast in the eye. Shrieking, it spiraled to the bottom of the pool in a bubbling, bloody mess.

"Whoa," Garth said, wide-eyed. "You _are_ Batman."


	4. Phantom Traveler

Dean was hiding something.

Sam didn't know what it was. But he knew damned well it was connected with him losing time. And with Dean treating him like a damned invalid.

His brother was afraid. Sam had seen it in his face the night they'd hunted the psycho chef.

_What are you?_

He looked across the room to where Dean was brooding over a possible case.

Damn it, _something_ was wrong! And whatever it was, it was eating his brother alive.

Sam hesitated, then blew out a shaky breath.

This had to stop. He couldn't live like this anymore.

"Dean?"


	5. BLOODY MARY

Heartbroken at the loss of her friend, Cassie took a hesitant step toward the man standing beside the black car, two silent, wide-eyed children cradled in his arms.

"John, you can stay with us, you and the boys." Her voice was choked with tears. "We have room."

"No." Stony-faced, John turned away from her and opened the back door of the Impala, fastening little Sammy into his car seat and tucking Dean close beside him

"John, please."

Ignoring her, he opened the driver's door.

Cassie tried again, for Mary's sake. "John, think of the children. You shouldn't be alone right now."

John glared at her and she shrank away. "I _am_ thinking of my children."

Mouth tight, he glanced once more at the smoking rubble of his home, then climbed into the car. He sat there for a long minute, head lowered and shoulders slumped.

When he finally started the car and drove down the street, threading his way through the crowd of gawking neighbors and emergency workers, Cassie buried her face in her hands and let the tears come.

She knew, somehow, that she would never see John or his children again.


	6. SKIN

The woman's screams were horrific, borne not just from pain, but from the certain knowledge that this night would never, ever end.

Her tormenter turned away and her eyes rolled wildly, struggling to keep track of him as he browsed through the instruments laid out on the bloody stone beside them.

His graceful hand caressed a jagged-toothed saw, hesitated, then moved on, resting finally on a simple, double-edged blade.

Green eyes lit with hellfire, the man turned back to the woman, smiling as she wailed in terror and anticipation.

"Ready or not . . . " Dean Winchester said softly.

SUPNSUPNSUPN

Remember when Dean said he climbed off the rack and started in cutting? And that he enjoyed it? Yeah.


	7. HOOKMAN

The boy jumped up onto the big double bed and waved his plastic sword enthusiastically. "I'll get you, Cap'n Hook!"

One hand on her hip in the accepted swashbuckler style, Mary brandished her wooden spoon threateningly at her young son. "Not if I get you first, Peter Pan!"

Delirious with delight, Dean jumped up and down and the old bed groaned. "Peter Pan! Peter Pan!"

"Tick tock, Peter Pan!" A deep voice growled from outside in the hall. "TICK TOCK!"

Grinning, Dean faced the door, sword raised and ready. "Crocodile!" he shrieked with glee. "_Crocodile_!"

With a roar, John crawled into the room on all fours, his face twisted in a ferocious, toothy scowl. He had Dean's stuffed green alligator secured to his head with one of Mary's nylon stockings and fake vampire fangs from their last Halloween party protruded from his mouth.

"John!" Mary burst out laughing and dropped her spoon. "Oh, my _God_!"

"TICK – " John began menacingly.

"PETER PAN!" Dean took a fearless leap off the bed and landed on his father's back, smooshing him into the carpet.

All the air blew out of John's lungs. "Holy crap!" he wheezed.

Whooping, Dean smacked his father in the head with his sword, then jumped up and ran out of the room, sword sweeping triumphantly through the air. "Holy crap! Holy crap!"

Laughing, Mary started in pursuit of the young hoodlum. As she went past the downed crocodile, the crafty beast snagged the back of her dress and pulled her down into a tight embrace. "Gotcha!" He nuzzled the side of her throat and Mary shivered as the fangs brushed her ear.

"That tickles!"

John grinned and the vamp fangs fell off. "Tickles? I'll show you tickles, my pretty!" He twirled an imaginary villainous moustache and then his hands plunged beneath her shirt in a massive attack on her blossoming baby bump.

"John, stop!" Mary dissolved into giggles.

Drawn by the cries of the helpless maiden, Dean dashed back into the room, brandishing his sword - "PETER PAN TO THE RESCUE!" – and leapt back into the fray.

Several minutes later, the exhausted combatants crawled up onto the bed and collapsed, Mary curling up under John's arm, Dean lying comfortably between them.

"How long, Mommy?" he asked sleepily. "How long before my little brother gets here?"

"A few more months." Mary smiled up at her husband. "In the spring."

With an answering smile, John kissed her forehead. He pulled a blanket up over his little family, then reached over and gave his son's blond mop a fond tousle. "You know, it might be a little sister, kiddo."

"No." Yawning, Dean slung a protective arm over his mother's belly. "He's my baby brother. I'm gonna take care of him. He can even play with my toys."

"You're going to be a wonderful brother, sweetheart," Mary said softly.

Dean didn't hear her. Soft whuffling snores escaped him as he drifted off.

Soon after, with yawns of their own, John and Mary closed their eyes and followed their boys into Neverland.

_Second star to the right and straight on 'til morning. "  
― __J.M. Barrie__, __Peter Pan_

To those of you who are still reading, in spite of my long silences, thank you. I love you all.


	8. BUGS

Sam stared hopelessly at the door to the panic room. "Dean?"

When no reply came, he clenched his teeth against a groan and pressed his face into the pillow, hot tears seeping into cold sweat.

Withdrawal's next onslaught came as bugs. Tiny invisible feet marching over him, burrowing into his ears and nose, worming their way past the flimsy protection of his eyelids.

Frenzied, he scratched his arms and face bloody and, when the attack finally ceased, sagged bonelessly back onto the thin mattress.

He'd have sold his soul for a gun, and a single bullet.


	9. HOME

Dean slipped an arm around Sam's shoulders and eased him up into a sitting position. "You with me, Sammy?"

Sam stared at him blearily for a moment, then his eyes focused and he looked around in confusion. "Wha – Dean? Cas?"

Dean smiled and rubbed a comforting hand between Sam's shoulder blades. "It's okay, Sammy. I gotcha."

After a few seconds, Sam relaxed, eyes fixed on Dean's.

Dean nodded to Cas and the two lifted the big man to his feet, supporting him when he swayed unsteadily.

Sam looked around the unfamiliar room, bare of everything save the chair in the center of the room, rope and chain making it clear that someone had been bound there. "Did I - Dean, what did I do?"

Dean hesitated. Cas waited, face expressionless.

"Dean?" There was fear in Sam's voice. "Dean, what did I do?"

"You didn't do a damned thing. This one's all on me." Dean swallowed hard. "Sammy, I'm gonna tell you everything, I promise, but – can we go home first? I just really wanna go home."


	10. ASYLUM

"Nooooooooooooo - Deeeaaaannn!"

Little Sammy's wail ended in a scream of laughter when Dean tackled him to the rug and started tickling him mercilessly. "Give!"

"No, Dean, no!"

"Mwahahahahahaha!" Giggling, Dean dug his fingers into the little boy's sides. "Give!"

Sam shrieked and writhed, helpless with laughter. "No!"

"Give!" Dean pulled up Sam's faded Spiderman pajama top and blew a sloppy raspberry on his tummy. "Give!"

"No no no no nonononononono –

"BOYS!"

The youngsters froze.

John stood in the doorway, face stern. "I told you two to keep it down! It's like a madhouse in here!"

Ashamed, Dean's face dropped. "Sorry, Dad."

"Sorry, Dad!" Sam echoed, eyes wide.

"I'm afraid 'sorry' isn't good enough." John advanced on them. "I'm gonna have to teach you boys a lesson."

Before either boy could move, John had Dean in one big hand and Sam in the other. Grinning, he flipped both of them over onto their backs and started tickling.

"GIVE!"


	11. SCARECROW

The two boys sat on the floor in front of the television. As the movie on the small screen played on, little Sammy pushed closer and closer to Dean, until he was almost sitting in his lap.

"I don't like this movie."

"How come?" Dean asked, eyes not leaving the screen.

Sammy looked at him with tragic eyes. "That bad lady stole the girl's dog."

"Yeah, but she got him back, didn't she?"

Sam chewed his lip, unconvinced. "The tornado dropped a house on the other lady!"

"She was a witch, so it's okay." Dean grinned at him. "Witches suck."

The movie trailed on. Little by little, Sam edged all the way onto Dean's lap.

Dean rubbed Sam's back absently. "Not scared, are you?"

Sam shook his dark head, but kept his eyes firmly away from the television.

The soundtrack music soared dramatically. Sam's eyes strayed involuntarily over to the screen and his eyes widened in horror. "Dean! She set that scarecrow on _fire_!" He started to cry.

"Oh man." Surprised, Dean put his arms around Sam. "Sammy, it's just a movie, it's not real."

Sam stared up at him, eyes huge, dark and heartbroken.

Dean sighed and turned off the television. "Let's hit the sack." He climbed to his feet and hauled his little brother up.

"Guess it's a good thing we didn't make it as far as the flying monkeys, huh, kiddo?"


End file.
